The Lovers’ Chronicle 3 May – letters – verse by May Sarton – art by Robert De Niro, Sr.

Dear Zazie,

Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag.

Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

live from San Juan, Puerto Rico y’all

this is my favorite part of the day, when i carve out a space to write to you, today from a ocean view cabana in San Juan, now that i see you every day, they do not carry any, oh how i miss you angst, suppose you were tirin’ of that, now they are directly or indirectly about the shared feelin’s and what it means to discover what we thought was gone, perhaps today about how important the small things are, just enjoyin’ bein’ together, leavin’ all pretenses at the door, removin’ all armour, just to revel in quiet amour

© copyright 2022.2024 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

this verse,
these letters
strung together,
a reflection of all
that comes from
bein’ connected
to what matters

of givin’ somethin’ intimate
and carin’, and not bein’
afraid of goin’ beyond

and underneath thinkin’
of the singular reflection
of you and believin’

Pale Love, Pale Rider

if “solitude is richness of self”
then we are way beyond
any dream of Avaritia

struggles now against
all of it, self-doubt,
but underneath
keep pushin’

turn to thoughts of you,
sweepin’ over,
makin’ a lovely show,
so i am left with wonder

on seein’, one might marvel,
“What is it in your heart?”
not guessin’ that on my face,
merely a reflection of all
that has come from this

every day
seemin’ly always
connected to you
sometimes an affair
and sometimes not

you have to be willin’
to give somethin’ intimate
and not care, because
you have to believe

struggle against self-doubt,
but underneath i think
of the singular reflection
of you and i believe

the letters
the only remedy

always took the course
of least resistance,
along the way,
from one town,
from one heart,
to another
romantic escapades
resemblin’ operatic plots
learn the language
and write letters…

this wanderin’ nature,
and the precariousness
of feelin’s
a letter slipped
into a pocket
not to speak
of what it said…

now finally in a position
of not havin’ to go without
the necessities of life
just what these necessities are,
no one can judge….

understand
how intimacy
can exist
a commitment
to a way of life
to captivate so
to obtain
an understandin’
that inspiration
is all that matters

watchin’, captivated, you swimmin’
through the waters of yesteryear…
in the hill country river near our house,
in the hidden waterfall fed pool in Belize,
in the spring fed horse tank at Seven Cross…
the way your hair would bloom ‘neath the water
one of my greatest pleasures

anything good,
has elements of you
and the certain delight
of livin’, if with nothin’ else
than this consolation
knowin’ you

***

y’all beautiful women
(which come to find,
means all y’all women)
beware in May on the third day
before the Nones…
died on this day
Dalida, Suzy Parker and Daliah Lavi

The letters he wrote to her;
His only remedy to keep
from goin’ mad
or drownin’ in regret…

He took the course
of least resistance
Puttin’ himself in a position
where he need no longer go without
any necessities of life
Just what those necessities
were for him, no one could judge….

At first, no one could understand
How an intimacy
could exist between himself
and the woman in Texas
He a man of known character
Her strong in her commitment
to her way of life,
her land and horses
He attracted to every kind
of dissolute livin’
Of her he said,
Those who believe that a woman
is incapable of makin’ a man
equally happy all the twenty-four
hours of the day have never
known a woman such as her
She was as well read as he
She judged him astutely
No woman so captivated him
None obtained so deep an understandin’
She penetrated his outward shell
But she resisted the temptation
to join her destiny with his
She came to discern
his wanderin’ nature,
his volatile background,
and the precariousness
of his feelin’s
Before he left,
she slipped a letter into his pocket
He would not speak of what it said…

Crestfallen, despondent,
he set off for a tour
of France and Italy
Along the way,
from one town,
from one heart,
to another,
romantic escapades
resemblin’ operatic plots
He settled in Venice,
learned the language
And wrote her letters…

Anything good,
has elements of you
Everything bad,
has an incurred guilt
All the while, a victim
of my senses
A certain delight in goin’
astray and constantly
livin’ in error,
with no other consolation
than that of knowin’
i had erred

watchin’, captivated, you swimmin’
through the waters of yesteryear…
in the hill country river near our house,
in the hidden waterfall fed pool in belize,
in the spring fed horse tank at seven cross…
the way your hair would bloom ‘neath the water
one of my greatest pleasures

Roadtrip Sunday!
Well, a mini version.
Only 200 miles today.

***

Keeps closin’ in
But still dreamin’
Still pretendin’
Still hopin’, that
will be enough
Because, that is
all I have left

***

Tequila nights
Movin’ on mornin’s
C’mon take me back
Random romances
Nothin’ promised
Nothin’ takin’
C’mon take me back

***

Born to be a cowboy
Ropin’ hearts and
ridin’ the wind
Born to be a cowboy
Write you a song
and drive you wild
Born to be a cowboy

Thank you Muse,
for helpin’ me find
my words and myself.
I was incomplete without them.
My words are dedicated to you.

And thank you J
for the letter you wrote me
in French, spritzed with
Chanel No. 5
I still have it somewhere
along with the memories
of you and might have been
I am sorry I messed it up
I am lost, and probably
years from bein’ found

Today is the birthday of May Sarton (Eleanore Marie Sarton, Wondelgem, Belgium, May 3, 1912 – July 16, 1995 York, Maine); poet, novelist and memoirist. Although her best work is strongly personalised with erotic female imagery, she resisted the label of ‘lesbian writer’, preferring to convey the universality of human love.

When she was nineteen, Sarton traveled to Europe, living in Paris for a year. In this time, she met such literary and cultural figures as Virginia Woolf, Elizabeth Bowen, Julian Huxley and Juliette Huxley, Lugné-Pöe, Basil de Sélincourt, and S. S. Koteliansky. Sarton had affairs with both of the Huxleys. It was within this environment and community that she published her first novel, The Single Hound (1938).

In 1945 in Santa Fe, New Mexico, she met Judith “Judy” Matlack (September 9, 1898 – December 22, 1982), who became her partner for the next thirteen years. They separated in 1956, when Sarton’s father died and Sarton moved to Nelson, New Hampshire. Honey in the Hive (1988) is about their relationship. In her memoir At Seventy, Sarton reflected on Judy’s importance in her life and her (Sarton’s) Unitarian Universalist upbringing.

She said;

“I don’t write poems very often and when I do, they come in batches and they always seem to be connected to a woman, in my case, a muse who focuses the world for me and sometimes it’s a love affair and sometimes it’s not.”

“You choose to be a novelist but you’re chosen to be a poet. This is a gift and it’s a tremendous responsibility. You have to be willing to give something terribly intimate and secret of yourself to the world and not care, because you have to believe that what you have to say is important enough.”

“Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is richness of self.”

It struggles now alone
Against death and self-doubt,
But underneath the bone
The wings are pushing out.

And I thought of your face that sweeps over me like light,
Like the sun on an apple making a lovely show,
So one seeing it marveled the other night,
Turned to me saying, “What is it in your heart? You glow””…
Not guessing that on my face he saw the singular
Reflection of your grace like fire on snow…
And loved you there.

And today is the birthday of Robert De Niro (Robert Henry De Niro; Syracuse, New York ; May 3, 1922 – May 3, 1993 Manhattan); abstract expressionist painter and the father of actor Robert De Niro.

During the 1970s and 1980s, De Niro exhibited in museums and galleries throughout the United States, including New York, San Francisco, Kansas City, Los Angeles, and Washington, D.C. He taught at several art schools and colleges including the New York Studio School, the Cooper Union, the New School for Social Research and the School of Visual Arts. De Niro was a visiting artist at Michigan State University’s Department of Art in the spring of 1974.

His work is included in several museum collections including: Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Arkansas Arts Center, Brooklyn Museum, Baltimore Museum of Art, The Butler Institute of American Art, Corcoran Gallery of Art, Crocker Art Museum, The Denver Art Museum, The Heckscher Museum of Art, Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Kansas City Art Institute, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the National Academy Museum, Mint Museum, Parrish Art Museum, Provincetown Art Association and Museum, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Wadsworth Atheneum, Weatherspoon Art Museum, Whitney Museum of American Art, Yale University Art Gallery, and the Yellowstone Art Museum.

Gallery

Nude in Yellow Chair 1970

Woman in red

Dora in Red Dress, 1960

thanks for stoppin’ by y’all

Mac tag

The Lovers’ Chronicle 3 May – letters – verse by May Sarton – art by Robert De Niro, Sr.

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The Lovers’ Chronicle 3 May – letters – verse by May Sarton – art by Robert De Niro, Sr.

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